


Pale Skin

by Haepherion



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hux, Crying, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Force-Sensitive Hux, Gags, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Violence, Slight Sexual Torture, Top Kylo Ren, this is pure sin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7014709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haepherion/pseuds/Haepherion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s difficult to imagine this pale creature is the one responsible for half the fate of the dark side. Ren considers this unbidden thought. He’s been loathe to admit that Hux is even half as important to the fate of the galaxy as himself, but it is the truth. If not for Hux, perhaps the Resistance would have had their last hurrah after all.</p><p>Ren reaches over with a gloved hand to carefully stroke over Hux’s mussed hair. Hux keens under the touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags.

Words never held much interest for him. Leather bound old volumes with bug bitten covers and smelly old pages never impressed him; he didn’t have the patience to decipher the meaning behind carefully constructed phrases and sentences that all ultimately amounted to nothing. Leia, naturally, was disappointed.

 _Good_. She can add it to a long list of growing disappointments that add up to be her dead son.

But Ren wishes he had the words, now, to describe the exquisite freckled skin of Hux’s back, the way his thin arms so delicately shake as he struggles to hold himself up.

Everything about Hux is undeniably weak-looking in the gloomy glow of his room, lights dialed down low and trickles of light from wayward suns of different galaxies leaking in through the small window to space. Hux’s skin is sickly white, like he’s never been much exposed to the sun (he hasn’t, as far as Ren has been able to gather from reading his thoughts), like he is malnourished and doesn’t eat enough (he doesn’t–Ren knows that too).

It’s difficult to imagine this pale creature is the one responsible for half the fate of the dark side. Ren considers this unbidden thought. He’s been loathe to admit that Hux is even half as important to the fate of the galaxy as himself, but it is the truth. If not for Hux, perhaps the Resistance would have had their last hurrah after all.

Ren reaches over with a gloved hand to carefully stroke over Hux’s mussed hair. Hux keens under the touch.

Ren can’t admit to knowing much about matters of…the body. Snoke hadn’t deemed it necessary for him to learn, as it was simply a distraction from his studies. Ren was inclined to agree, almost.

No experience meant trial and error. A lot of errors, but no matter–Ren’s a quick learner. He wishes he’d maybe thought to read up a bit on it, maybe, so there wouldn’t have been as much blood and damage to fix afterwards. But all being said, he doesn’t regret what happened, just the way in which it happened.

There’s a muffled curse from Hux, then quiet again, only the sounds of his harsh breaths and Ren’s comparstively smoother breaths breaking the silence of the room.

Ren watches as drool slips past Hux’s gagged lips, down his chin, dripping onto the mattress, and shivers with delight. The same mouth that’s ordered the death of billions, that’s barked out remorseless commands is now silenced behind a mere strip of cloth, pulled taut in between his lips and tied in a dark knot behind Hux’s fiery red hair.

“You want this, General,” Ren murmurs, and he doesn’t even have to suggest the thought with the Force. He can feel the pure, raw need rolling off the general in increasingly desperate waves.

Hux is completely naked, stripped away of all his usual black attire, the great coat that he so likes to sweep over his shoulders to make him look physically bigger than he is.

Without all his layers and boots and the ever present disgusted sneer on his face, Hux looks decidedly younger, and much more…breakable.

Ren feels another surge of pleasure when Hux shivers again, this time from the chill of the room that is slowly but surely getting to him. Hux never lets anything get to him.

Ren licks his lips.

Hux senses what he’s about to do before he does it and tenses, jaw working uselessly around the makeshift gag with an ignored cry–

Ren brushes past Hux’s lowered mental barriers and builds himself a throne in the scattered thoughts of Hux’s usually organized mind.

Ren’s long suspected that Hux may be slightly force sensitive, even if he doesn’t recognize it, for all the great ability Hux is at keeping Ren out when he’s not otherwise distracted. But when Hux is like this, hurting and aching with need, his mind is bared open as much as his body is.

Ren revels in it, in utterly dominating a mind belonging to someone as powerful as Hux.

Now, along with lust, is an undercurrent of terror, buoyed by hate, that pulses in Hux’s mind.

_touchmefuckmereleasemehurtsDON’T_

Ren shoves past the disjointed thoughts to get at what he’s really searching for--access to Hux’s senses. Ren projects what he sees into Hux’s mind. Hux, straining and shivering on the bed, his entire back raw with angry welts, toes curled, eyes squinted shut. 

Hux’s thoughts are more tangled than strings and it’s delightful. Ren supposes, no, knows for a fact, that even if he were to take the cloth gag from between Hux’s lips, nothing but half formed sentences and nonsensical syllables would fall from his mouth.

“Control yourself, Hux”, Ren demands, even as he concentrates on the physiology of Hux’s body and invokes the Force to prod at just the right place.

Hux stiffens and his cock jerks weakly, already sensitive and overstimulated.

Ren watches with something a little like pride when just a little more come leaks out of Hux’s abused cock.

Hux is still in the same position on the bed since this whole thing started, on his hands and knees, legs spread wide apart, his tiring arms shaking harder and harder underneath him. Immobilized by the Force, most of his weight is still on his arms, Ren merely holding him there and letting the gravity inside the ship and Hux do the rest of the work. Of course, Hux could at any time choose to submit completely, let his arms collapse underneath him and leave his ass up high in the air, but he hasn’t.

It’s part of the game they play, and as much as Ren likes to see Hux come undone, he doesn’t want to see him broken. Not yet, at least.

They’ve been at it for longer than usual today, a good two hours instead of their normal hour long fuck sessions, and Hux is quickly starting to reach his breaking point.

Admirable, that he’s made it this far, Ren marvels. Ren has, of course, already sated himself, twice over. He can see a trickle of come leaking out of Hux’s ass, and the sight is as disgusting as it is arousing. Ren’s had time to shower and enough time to pull on his tunic and pants and coat and boots-- he’s left the helmet off for now.

Hux has been on the bed the entire time, stimulated past the point of pleasure, painful need and aching soreness warring for dominance in his reeling senses.

It hadn’t always been like this. Of course, the violence, the indelible hate and cataclysmic nature of their fucking has been a constant. But this, Hux being made to lose control, came later.

At this moment Hux let’s out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob, breaking Ren out of his reverie.

Ren examines the general. There are pools of wetness in his bright eyes, the piercing blue color accentuated even more by the shine of tears. 

Ren is a lot of things, but utterly merciless is not one of them. Most people believe that mercy is innate, but they are fools.

Hux wields compassion like a tool, and over time, Ren has learned how to do it as well. It’d been a change at first. Leia had given love so easily to all and anyone, and Han, with some prodding, was the same way. Always giving pieces of their heart away to others. _Compassion_. Weak. Ren had to work for Hux’s, and even now he knows that the rare moment of affection are careful and measured.

Ren draws himself out of Hux’s mind with more care than he entered it and sees Hux physically shudder with the withdrawal.

 _Good._  

“I have some matters to attend to,” Ren says. From around the gag Hux yells. 

“Rest assured, I have ordered Phasma to attend to manners that may arise in your absence. I will return. You may, of course, call for help anytime you’d like,” Ren says, knowing full well that Hux would rather die than someone catch him in such a compromised position. 

With a smirk, he calls his helmet to him with the Force, fixing it into place. 

Ren turns the lights out on his way out. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags, so please read them, and then read them again. This chapter is explicit, and straight up hops from dub con to non con and back. Exercise caution, my comrades.
> 
> \------

             At this hour, the halls of the Finalizer are empty, dark passages lit in a soft amber light. Blue light during the day, amber and gold during the evening, to help people balance out their circadian rhythms.

 

             _Humans are weak._

 

            If Ren could have chosen to be a different species, he would have. Preferably one with an exoskeleton, instead of the soft and giving yield of skin and flesh.

 

            Ren doesn’t remember the last time he actually _slept_. Naps, sure. Meditations are the only thing he needs to survive. Much more restful than actual sleep, anyhow.

 

            His boots thud against the linoleum-aluminum alloy floors.

           

            This is, perhaps, his favorite part of the game they play. The waiting. Though he can’t see Hux sweat and shiver, he can sense it. All the normally pent up anger and frustration in the man hissing out of his pores like a broken valve. It’s the only way he can do this, to have it forced out of him, squeezed and wrung out like a towel until he’s loose and limp.

 

            Ren casts his thoughts out back to Hux’s quarters, tasting the atmosphere around him. Ren has part of his concentration allocated to keeping Hux immobilized on the bed. With distance, his ability to keep Hux frozen wanes, but only a little. Not enough that Hux could struggle out of the Force-hold, especially given the mentally vulnerable state he’s in.

 

            The stupid boy thinks that Ren can _actually_ read thoughts, which is not how the Force works. People can barely understand their own thoughts, much less be able to communicate them effectively enough for someone to listen in and understand what they’re saying. No, much of it is sensing the balance of the room, piecing together hints and errant strands of thought into something comprehensible.

 

            It doesn’t take a lot of energy to discern that Hux is suffering, greatly. Core temperature dropping, thoughts full of chaos, emotions swinging wildly between primal fear and reluctant acceptance of death. _Hah…_ as if Hux actually believes he’s going to die from, what, being fucked to death?

 

            Ren doesn’t remember the last time he was in such a good mood.

 

\---

 

            The amber lights are starting to gently fade into blue. Ren rouses himself from his meditation, feeling refreshed and sated. He takes a moment to stand and stretch out his limbs, breathing in deep. Pokes at his own consciousness, just to make sure that he hasn’t let Hux slip out of position while he was deep in meditation. He’s satisfied to find that Hux is still in the same spot that Ren left him in.

 

            Ren sighs in contentment.

 

            The first few months he’d been on the vessel he felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe. The recycled air that blasted through the Finalizer didn’t hold a candle to a cool ocean breeze, the woodsy aroma of the wild of his childhood. The helmet adjusts everything slightly, makes the air a little less pure, a little less balanced. If the Republic actually had half a brain for warfare, they would have used biological toxins to knock out the First Order. Half of its officers have never been in contact with pollen of any sort.

 

            Ren remembers the first time Hux had felt desert land underneath the soles of his boots, the sting of sand cutting into his skin. And the sunburn that had followed. Arkanis was a rainy planet.

 

            Hux been disgusted, naturally, at the way his skin so easily crisped under the harsh desert sun. His black coat soaking up the heat, drenching him in sweat. He’d been a vision, a manic pink-skinned demon, sand turning his hair from bright red to dusky copper. They’d almost lost the battle that day. No one would have been able to tell—the desert drank up spilled blood easily, leaving behind nothing but a swath of bones and desiccated bodies.

 

            Ren finishes his stretches with a series of deep breathing exercises, without the mask. The humidity in his quarters are adjusted to a comfortable level.

 

            He stands in one fluid motion and reaches for his mask, donning his lightsaber before heading out to Hux’s quarters.

 

            If he wanted to, he could cast out using the Force to see how Hux is doing, but he doesn’t. He wants to savor it, the sweetness of Hux’s defeat, the smell of frustration and desperation when he walks into the room.  

 

            Ren takes his time, feeling through the Force as the ship slowly comes awake. Officers and technicians alike nursing their metal cups full of caf, stormtroopers scuttling around like beetles with their helmets on, reporting for training in the morning.

 

            He’s already altered Hux’s schedule—to the knowledge of the senior officers, he’s on-ship but unavailable, having a very important holo-conference with some classified dignitaries.

 

            Ren smiles behind his mask.

 

            The corridor to Hux’s quarters is conveniently empty.

 

            Luke used to say that Ren didn’t have any purpose, that the Force was about dictating your purpose and working with the Force to alter it to your will. Ren couldn’t get things to work correctly because he didn’t have enough _purpose_ , but Luke was wrong. Ren has purpose, but only for certain things. Or people.  

 

            The door to Hux’s room slides open and his overloaded senses hit Ren like a brick.

 

            Not an inkling of arousal left, just exhaustion and soreness and _pain._

On the bed, face smashed into the mattress and ass high in the air is Hux, eyes half-lidded and makeshift cloth gag circled around his neck like the world’s ugliest cravat. He must have spat it out at some point so that he could yell, or maybe call for help. But of course, he knows better than to call for help.

 

            Ren strides into the room, door hissing shut behind him. Hux barely twitches, a novelty in itself. Hux, normally so cognizant of his surroundings, is all but blind to everything except his own dismal state.

 

            “Get up,” Ren says. Through the modulator the words are cold and toneless. Hux stays where he is, even as Ren approaches.

 

            Ren slaps him, hard, across the ass, and Hux makes a noise close to a whimper, but doesn’t move.

 

            Ren sheds his armor, one piece at a time, until all that’s left is a neat pile of his clothes, helmet resting atop. He’d normally keep it on—there’s something lovely about seeing his black gloves in contrast with Hux’s pale skin. But this is different. Hux always puts up a fight in the beginning; it’s important for Ren to look as intimidating as possible.

           

            “Are you awake?” Ren says. It’s a rhetorical question. Ren can feel Hux’s consciousness skittering around, desperately trying to find corners to hide in before Ren inevitably pins it down like a rat.

 

            Ren picks his way over a small steel box tucked in a small recess of Hux’s frugal closet. It’s a Force-induced lock—Hux knows he isn’t allowed to attempt to open it, though perhaps he’s tried. Ren tests the lock, placing his hand over the box.

 

            The first of four locks in unclicked. Perhaps he should be more surprised than he is, but somehow, he isn’t. Even if Hux doesn’t believe he’s Force-sensitive, his powers come out in bursts, when he’s angry or frustrated. No matter, Ren will deal with the breach promptly.

 

            Ren focuses and clicks open the locks the same instance that he finally lets his Force-hold on Hux go. The effect is instantaneous; Hux goes boneless on the bed, collapsing fully into an exhausted tangle of limbs.

 

            From the box, Ren plucks out his newest toy, a steel spider gag. The older one Ren had used on Hux didn’t have the metal wings on the side of the bit, and Hux caused him endless frustration whenever he would flip the circle in his mouth, citing poor reasons like “needing to breathe” for being insolent.

 

            It’s always a rush, seeing Hux’s pupils widen whenever he catches a glance of whatever new contraption Ren has hidden away in the box, to use for next time.

 

            Hux puts up little resistance when Ren stalks over to the bed and bodily flips him over so that he’s on his back. He’s not usually this pliable, but the week had been hectic; an almost failed escape plan off a remote planet and extensive repairs with limited equipment had Hux up on his feet an absurd amount of hours, forcing mind over matter to make the crew run efficiently. It was stupid—the crew was perfectly capable, but Hux insisted, something about being a bastion of morale, or some other karking reason. No denying he is a good leader, at the expense of his swiftly deteriorating body.

 

            Ren slaps him across the face, open handed, twice, before Hux slowly blinks his eyes open. His cheeks are turning red from where Ren hit him.

 

            “R…Ren,” he whispers, and he looks so tired that Ren feels a pang of pity, in the same instance that he feels disgust. _Weak._ He invokes the Force and grabs a canteen of water off Hux’s desk, unscrewing the cap and pouring water into Hux’s parted lips. Some of it sloshes out the corners of his mouth and onto the bed.

 

            “Open your mouth,” Ren says. It sounds less harsh without the modulator--Ren hates the way he speaks his vowels, all soft and rounded tones. His mother taught him to sound diplomatic, in a world that was built for wolves.

 

            Hux looks up at him with a hazy childlike confusion, like he thought their games were over. Like he thinks Ren is done playing with him for the night. Ren dares to poke out with the Force and gets very little response from Hux’s brain other than a sort of white noise, like he’s on drugs. The muscle relaxant and sedative that Ren slipped into his drink earlier hadn’t been _that_ strong, although he’d forgotten to account for Hux’s poor, or rather lack of, diet.

 

            Ren backhands Hux for good measure, and watches with no small amount of satisfaction when Hux’s head snaps to the side, a small spark of awakening in his lizard brain accompanying the sharp pain. _Good._ Hux is waking up.

 

            “Open your mouth,” Ren growls again and this time it works, Hux weakly dropping his jaw so Ren can fit the ‘o’ ring of the gag behind his front teeth. And suddenly, Hux comes back to himself, hands moving up to push against the object Ren’s forcing into his mouth. In his drained state, Hux’s struggling is more a nuisance than anything, though Ren lets it continue on, enjoying the feeling of having Hux squirming fruitlessly underneath him.

 

            Behind the gag Hux makes a pathetic whine, a cross between a whimper and a choked off cry, and that’s all it takes for Ren to feel heat pool in his groin.

 

            Ren secures the straps tight around the back of Hux’s sweat-matted hair, watching gleefully for a few moments as Hux attempts to pry it off with clumsy fingers, only to have his hands trapped by the Force.

 

            It’d taken several tries and a lot longer than Ren thought to break Hux. Even now, he’s only made the man cry twice, each time after some stressful week had occurred and Hux had neglected himself, and Ren had fucked him hard enough to make him scream, and then some. Beatings as a child through adulthood gifted Hux with a ridiculously high pain tolerance, something that Ren absolutely adored. He jumped at every opportunity to make Hux _hurt_ , admiring the way he so carefully compartmentalizes his emotions into strict little boxes. To him, pain is just another inconvenient emotion, able to be filed away and perused at some later date. But not like this. Not when Ren has stripped him raw and tossed him around like a rag doll, shaking all the carefully filed boxes into a pile on the floor. It’s what he’s good at after all, kriffing things up.

 

            Ren ventures into Hux’s mind, fleeting images flashing up to greet him. _Hux cowering in a closet after his father threatened to belt him for embarrassing them by calling one of the planet dignitaries the incorrect name at a political dinner. Hux on his knees in front of his organic sciences professor at the academy, the only subject Hux didn’t excel at, earning his grade with his mouth. Hux at his mother’s funeral, biting his tongue hard enough to flood his mouth with blood so he wouldn’t cry._

            Ren is merciful. He slaps Hux hard across his cheeks, the metal clicking against his teeth and slicing the inside of his mouth. This is the part he loves the most—balancing on the precipice of Hux’s composed psyche, pushing and pulling him this way and that before dropping him off the edge. It’s so easy, when he’s like this. Peel back the exterior of any hardened shell and the only thing there will be a pallid, shriveled mortal.

 

            Ren hits him again. And again. And again.

 

            He drags Hux to the edge of the bed so that his head hangs backwards off the edge, the rest of his body struggling on the mattress. Without fanfare Ren sticks his cock into Hux’s mouth and down his throat all the way to the back, gasping at the sensation of Hux’s throat spasming around him. The sight of Hux’s throat, bulging with Ren’s dick, is enough to make Ren’s shudder to control himself from coming right then.

 

            He fucks in and out of the tight heat, savoring the feeling of Hux’s nose dragging along his balls, valiantly trying to snatch in breaths here and there. When Ren senses Hux’s vision dimming from lack of air he relents, pulling out, bloody saliva and pre-come slicking Hux’s entire face. Hux’s breaths wheeze in and out, and Ren is reminded not for the first time of his hunch that Hux is asthmatic.

 

            The sight is obscene.

 

            Ren lets go of the Force hold he has on Hux. Hux rolls over and retches drool and bile on his bed, curling in on himself desperately.

 

            “Shh…” Ren says, reaching over a hand to stroke down the knobs of Hux’s bony spine. Hux’s skin is feverish with cold sweat; he shivers under Ren’s touch.

 

            “You love this, don’t you,” Ren says, “you crave this.” It’s true. Hux was born with a destructive nature, and it applies for everything that stands in his path, including the fallacies of own body. _Especially_ when it comes to the fallacies of his own body, unable to support his constantly working brain.

 

            Hux tries to scramble away from him, but doesn’t make it very far until he hits the headboard. Nowhere to go. Ren licks his lips. Barely has to invoke the Force to drag Hux back down the bed.

 

            It’s less that Hux doesn’t want this and more that he’s finally _exhausted_ enough to sleep, a rarity in itself. It’s the only way he gets sleep anymore, when he is literally too tired to function.

 

            And finally, Ren sees what he wants; tears. Not tears of pain or reflex tears from being choked. Real honest tears from emotion, the floodgates of Hux’s self-possessed brain no longer able to be repressed.

 

            “It’s okay,” Ren murmurs, because in between the confusion and hatred and pain, there’s _fear_ in Hux’s eyes, pure and unbridled and childlike.  

 

            Ren gently swipes Hux’s face clean of fluids and slathers the moisture on his cock, which has flagged a little. He loosens his Force hold on Hux, rearranging both of them so that Hux is on his back and Ren is looming over him, body cocooning Hux’s like a blanket.

 

            Ren reaches down and prods at Hux’s hole, pushing in incrementally. He watches Hux’s face contort, or as much as it can anyway, with the gag in. Ren reaches behind Hux’s head and removes the gag, and Hux is so grateful for it that more tears spring to his eyes, hiccupping, quiet sobs making their way out of his throat.

 

            Ren pets his hair, soothing instead of hurting now. The pain is necessary, always, to bring Hux to this point. Their nirvana.

 

            Ren fucks into him in slow and steady strokes. Hux’s mind slowly clears of all thoughts, instead being occupied by a numbing white noise that slowly overtakes everything, consuming him. Ren feels the moment it engulfs Hux completely, and then Ren looses himself too, orgasm whiting out his vision.

 

            When Ren comes to again, he pulls out gingerly. Hux is fully passed out, his mind finally a cushion of darkness. Blank. Peaceful.

 

            Ren sighs. Gets up and fetches a washcloth, wiping himself down, then Hux, still limp with sleep.  

 

            In the darkness of the room, Ren moves close until he’s pressed himself onto Hux’s back, and he wraps an arm around Hux’s hollow chest.  

 

            He lets the reedy sounds of Hux’s breaths lull him to sleep.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm, so. I'm sorry for making you guys wait so long for an update, but I hope this chapter makes up for it? 
> 
> I'm always a slut for comments. Also, pls come yell at me on my ~slightly used but still brand new~ [tumblr](http://notpops.tumblr.com)...


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